


The Gamble

by SuiseisekiDesu (stetiss)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Love/Hate, M/M, Private School, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 05:23:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6361177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stetiss/pseuds/SuiseisekiDesu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent and Diederich get to know each other during summer days at Weston College.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gamble

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Scommessa](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/185005) by Midotaka. 



> This is my translation of "Scommessa" by MidoTaka, the author of “Ius Primae Noctis” (which I also translated and I'll be posting soon). Both are DeeVin centered, but this one is set in their past at Weston College. I loved it as much as I loved the other fic, so I’m translating this for you to enjoy as well :)  
> She wrote this straight after reading chapter 101, so it’s kinda supposed to be a memento of the lost abdominals of our beloved German soldier… just wanted you to know :D  
> Here we have Vincent and Diederich getting to know each other during their time spent at Weston College... yeah, "know". You all realize what that's supposed to mean.   
> Enjoy!

That ridiculous situation was starting to get really annoying, and also completely degrading. There were only two weeks left until the end of the last term, which, for the elder students, also meant that exams were approaching; this was why Diederich was deeply immersed in the reading of their huge book of history of England. Or at least this was the idea that the people looking would get.  
He was sitting in a very unseemly manner on one of the delicate white chairs in the Swan Gazebo, his green eyes sliding on the words without managing to understand their meaning, as if he was reading something written in an unknown language.  
“Phantomhive!” the Scarlet Fox’s prefect uttered, clearly exhausted by the amount of study of those days.  
On the contrary of the other three prefects sitting around a table covered in open books, random sheets and hastily scribbled notes, Vincent was enjoying that fine afternoon lying on a velvet couch, dozing unconcerned.  
When his fellow prefect called him, he just opened lazily his eyes without turning to face him.  
“Yeah?” he asked, watching peacefully the sky above them. Diederich frowned, annoyed by that unnatural calm.  
“Are you planning to even open a book before the exams or are you so confident in your skills that you won’t revise at all?”  
On the lips of the Sapphire Owl’s prefect appeared a delicate smile, an enigmatic smile that hinted the sense of superiority that animated almost all of his actions.  
Diederich’s strict glare rested on those lips, and his expression became even more annoyed.  
“During this term I have studied restlessly everything they could ask me. Why should I waste the beginning of summer doing something I’ve already done?”  
The young German boy tried his best to ignore that polite voice that was getting at his nerves, reading of the decline of King Charles I.  
“You’re really hopeless, Phantomhive” chuckled the other, shaking his head.  
“And you’re all way too much worried” Vincent answered getting up very unwillingly. For the briefest instant his brown eyes met the green ones of his brand new German slave, who was unsuccessfully trying his best to concentrate on what he was reading. “Come on, you all know that you don’t really need revising…”  
The relationship with the Parliament worsened and in 1642 Civil War broke out. That cheeky brat… how unbearably conceated he was.  
This time it was the Violet Wolf’s prefect that answered to the Sapphire Owl’s.  
“The only thing I know” he stated, collecting messily his scribbled notes “is that it’s impossible to concentrate with you two quarrelling all the time…”  
Vincent laughed prettily, pushing his hair out of his view with a graceful movement of his hand. The shirt’s sleeve, rolled up on his elbow, left his delicate wrist uncovered.  
Defeated in 1645 during Naseby Battle, Charles was captured on the Isle of Wight, and was processed and condemned to death. He was beheaded on 30 January 1649.  
“Come on, James” he called, with another quick glance at Diederich “Adam and I are just trying to cheer up this wasted afternoons, you know…”  
“Yeah, yeah, Phantomhive…” the other guy answered, picked, passing in front of him to reach the Gazebo’s staircase. Before getting out, however, he smiled tiredly at him “I’ll just go in my room and finish wasting the afternoon there, where maybe I’ll be able to get some silence…”  
The sound of a dragged chair made both Diederich and Vincent jump.  
“Aww, Adam, don’t tell me you’re leaving too!”  
A grin curved the lips of the Scalet Fox’s prefect, giving that usually sweet and relaxed face a saucy look.  
“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Phantomhive” he said, returning the other’s mocking smile “Not all of us have the privilege to possess a fine brain as yours. What are you doing?”  
This last question was unexpectedly asked to Diederich, who needed a few moments to understand it.  
“At the Green Lion’s is definitely less quiet than here” he muttered, flashing a look towards Vincent, who was once again staring at him with his usual, undecipherable expression.  
“Okay then. See you at dinner!”  
And so both the Scarlet Fox’s and the Violet Wolf’s prefects left alone their schoolmates, and silence fell once again on the Swan Gazebo.  
The weather was still pretty chilly, to be June, although the sun of that late afternoon was warming the whole of the Weston College’s park. Near the small, white building, the river was flowing quietly, filling the air with its relaxing sound. Despite all this, Diederich’s mind was not managing to relax at all, while Vincent just got back dozing on the sofa without a word.  
It had been five days since the cricket’s tournament final. Five long days that did not heal the humiliation of the Green Lion’s House for having lost against the eternal losers: five days in which the two boys standing in the Gazebo did not exchange but a few courtesy words.  
Without having really read it, Diederich endend the chapter on Charles I. He had only barely did one third of the studying he had planned to do on that afternoon, but he couldn’t care less about the exams. More vivid than the threat of a bad mark were the words that Vincent said to him on that evening:  
From now on, when I call you, you will come to me, no matter where you are. And without complaining.  
The Green Lion’s prefect shut close the book, his eyes on Vincent’s unconcerned face.  
Who said until graduation?  
A fresh breeze made its way into the Gazebo, caressing delicately the pages of the open books and the dark hair of the young Earl. He let it ruffle his fringe without lifting his long eyelashes.  
That ridiculous situation had gotten way too far. It had no sense to prolong it.  
“Phantomhive”  
Diederich got up with a quick movement, leaving his book on the table, and went straight for the couch where the other was lying.  
Finally, Vincent opened his eyes.  
“Hey, Dee” he greeted him, ignoring the growl the other made when he called him like that “What’s wrong? Do you need help with history? You looked pretty lost while revising…”  
Diederich completely ignored the remark.  
“Tell me what you have in mind, Phantomhive. Your attitude is really starting to piss me off”  
A silent smile reappeared on Vincent’s lips. He thought the stubborness with which Dee was facing him was utterly bewitching. All that pride stirred him up.  
“What I have in mind… about what?”  
Diederich let go a contemptuous sound, but at the same time could not miss to notice how the late afternoon’s light was making Vincent’s eyes shine of an almost crimson shade.  
“Don’t fool with me. I’m obviously talking about your stupid request after that match, and you know that” Vincent raised an eyebrow, but kept staring firmly into the other’s angry eyes “What the hell do you mean with ‘slave’? And what is it supposed to mean, that this farce will not end with graduation?”  
His voice, normally low and sharp, had got even more aggressive. Something in that, however, sounded like music to Vincent’s ears. It was beautiful, so manly and determined… the voice of an adult.  
“It means what it literally means. No wonder you have problems with study, if you can’t even understand the language books are written in”  
At that new provocation, Diederich’s expression got even more menacious, but he did nothing. He knew very well how sharp Vincent’s tongue was.  
“I am a man who keeps his word, so I won’t break my promise. But I demand that you explain me in detail what I’m supposed to do as your… fag”  
He said this word reluctantly, but his iron gaze did not waver. It remained fixed upon the other’s face.  
The light breeze entered once again the Swan Gazebo, making its way between the two. As before, Vincent’s hair ruffled, and he pushed them away with an absent-minded gesture. His fingers, the Green Lion’s prefect noticed, were long and slim, and there was an ink stain on his forefinger.  
“Let us put it this way, Dee” smiled Vincent, getting up “Seeing the future in front of me, as a Phantomhive I thought it appropriate to find me out someone who I can completely trust. And you looked like a really suitable purchase for my goal…”  
Standing one in front of the other, Diederich had to resort to the very last drop of self control he had, to stop himself from punching Vincent, who was still looking at him with his brown eyes. But that last sentence was really too much.  
“A purchase suitable for your goal?” he growled, his fists clenched “Is that what I’m supposed to be from now on? Just who the hell do you think I am?!”  
The young Earl chuckled as answer, and shrugging his shoulders, he walked away from Diederich.  
For the briefest instant, their hands touched lightly, but neither of them could ignore it. Vincent had almost arrived on the stairs, ready to walk away and leave the other with all his questions and doubts, when he felt himself being dragged back and pushed roughly against the nearest white wood column: Diederich had no intention to be ignored like that, and he blocked him against the Gazebo, one hand on the balustrade and the other on Vincent’s shoulder.  
For the first time, the young Earl’s stare wavered. Almost unperceivably, but it did.  
“You’re not walking away again leaving my questions unanswered, you bastard”  
Vincent felt his grip get tighter, but he wasn’t feeling threatened at all. He knew perfectly well his purchase…  
The smile from earlier got back on his face.  
“You want to know who I think you are?” he said, calm as usual “I’d say… a loyal and faithful ally. Pretty much like a good German shepherd…”  
Diederich’s hand closed violently on his shoulder, and suddenly his dark eyes vere filled with nothing but rage. However, he didn’t say anything.  
This time Vincent realized his words had been too rash, but he was actually more surprised by Diederich’s reaction than by his own cheekiness. He was more than ready to get punched in the stomach, or to get heavily insulted in a language halfway between English and German, but he wasn’t expecting that silence. He had no idea how to react to this.  
The Sapphire Owl’s prefect moved his gaze on the other’s hand, still clutching his shoulder, which was starting to give him small twinges. He went back to look into the green eyes and once again his resolve wavered.  
“You’re starting to hurt me, Dee” Vincent said, as if he was talking about weather.  
Diederich remained silent, but let go a little.  
Behind the young Earl, the sun was getting golden, setting majestically on the trees and buildings of Weston College. In an hour or so it would have been time to go in the dining hall for dinner, which would be followed by more studying, as usual.  
Vincent frowned: he usually liked silence very much, but in that situation he could hardly stand it.  
“What else do you want me to say?” he asked, hoping for the other to break that heavy atmosphere.  
The only thing he obtained, though, was to get released by the fellow prefect. When Diederich finally lowered his hand, releasing his grip, his shoulder ached dully.  
“Were you really so bothered by my words?” Vincent went on. He was beginning to lose his typical confidence.  
Diederich could not answer, for he could not find an answer among his confused thoughts. It obviously annoyed him to be called a German dog, but not really more than the silly jokes he was used to by now. The unpleasant feeling that filled him up at the moment was far away from that kind of annoyance, though. It felt suspiciously like… like sorrow. But why? Because he would have had to keep that hastily made promise for the rest of his life? Or was it because he didn’t want to be Vincent Phantomhive’s loyal and faithful ally?  
At least, not only his ally…  
“Enough of this, Dee. Let me go” the young Earl said imperiously, pushing him away so he could finally be able to escape that ridiculous situation.  
But for the second time Diederich blocked him up against the column, no gentlier than before.  
“How dare you?” Vincent complained, before being hypnotized by the strange way he was being looked at “…what’s wrong, Diederich?”  
It looked as though the Green Lion’s prefect was fighting a very hard battle with himself. But Vincent’s voice managed to bring him back to reality… a reality that for an unknown reason was now strangely limited to that beautiful face, a face that, for one reason or another, always made him lose his mind.  
“Shut up, Phantomhive”  
Neither of them had the time to realize what was happening.  
His hands blocking both of Vincent’s arms, Diederich took the only step that divided them, getting closer so that their bodies touched one another, not for mistake anymore.  
He bended his face a little, trying to hide his insecurity, and in an instant his lips were on Vincent’s, slightly opened for the surprise.  
In fact, Vincent was so surprised he could not find the strength to kiss him back, so he just let Diederich caress his lips with his tongue, he let his arms hold him still and his breath warm his face. Although the Green Lion’s prefect was usually quite impatient and rough, that kiss was the most pleasant thing Vincent had experienced in his entire life.  
It was only when a gust of chillier wind hit them that Diederich parted from the Earl’s lips, as quick as he was while playing cricket. He took a step back, letting go of Vincent, suddenly realizing what he had done without understanding why he had done it.  
A silence different from the previous ones fell on the two. Vincent was staring at him in utter disbelief, whereas Diederich just stared stubbornly onto the floor, not knowing what to do.  
He had kissed Vincent Phantomhive. He had kissed him and he had liked it. But Vincent was still silent…  
“I’m sorry” he muttered, just wanting to run away, as far as possible, and hide in his safe room. Having undertstood his thoughts, Vincent prevented him from getting even just a step away, holding his head firmly with both hands and giving him the kiss he had not been able to return before.  
For a moment it was Diederich’s turn to be shocked and unsure of what to do, but that indecision lasted only for the time of a blink. Holding Vincent, the boy kissed him back even harder than before, wondering mildly surprised how it was possible for that usually sharp tongue to be sweet as honey, and how on earth Phantomhive could be so submissive.  
He felt Vincent’s thin fingers entwined in his short black hair, he felt the Earl holding onto him with the same impatience he was feeling. Lost in the passion of that hug, he almost lifted him up.  
That kiss endend with the same impetuosity it started. A voluptuous smack, slightly embarrassing, and both went back to watch their own dread in the other’s eyes.  
For the very first time, Vincent didn’t know what to say, and that childish bewilderment gave his face an angelic look of perfect innocence. Diederich however knew perfectly well it was only an illusion, for there was nothing innocent in Vincent. He watched him open and close his mouth repeatedly, obviously trying to find in that sharp mind of his some words that would fit the situation, but the German boy didn’t want to stay and hear what other humiliation for him he could come up with.  
“Just… don’t talk about this, shall we?” he said, serious.  
He wanted to put as much distance as possible between him and that damn boy, so he turned his back on him, ignoring the fact that there was a pleading light in Vincent’s eyes, unconsciously begging him to stay.  
The sun set in a triumph of fire and light.

***

Neither of them went into the dining hall to eat, that evening. When Midford came worried to call him, Diederich just snapped at him to leave him alone.   
He was sitting on his bed, broody and gloomy, the books he should have been reading left closed and forgotten on his desk. He spent the evening lying among the pillows, without getting up or thinking about anything that wasn’t Vincent’s lips. Sometimes with desire, sometimes with anger.  
Behind the dormitory’s dark green curtains, the sky was getting darker, but the boy didn’t notice neither the beautiful half moon shining on the College’s gardens nor the stars reflected in his empty stare.  
Behind his door he could hear the noises coming from the other rooms: students freaking out for the incoming exams and the usual idiots messing up. It should have been his job, as Prefect, to bring back silence and peace, but it was only when he heard his own fag scolding the noisy students that he remembered he should have done it.  
But nothing of that mattered, that night. He could still taste the flavour of Vincent’s tongue on his lips, he could still feel the warmth he had felt holding him in his arms. Those new sensations, although confused and sometimes even slightly unpleasant, were inebriating him like a warm and sweet liqueur. He wanted more, he wanted to get befuddled by it enough to fall asleep, hoping that at least in his dreams Vincent Phantomhive would leave him free.   
Without realizing it was now late in night and everything was silent, Diederich heard a light knocking on his door.  
“Come in” he said automathically.  
When Vincent opened the door, all his thoughts drifted onto him.  
The Sapphire Owl’s prefect remained silent for a few moments, standing motionless in front of the door he had just closed silently behind his back. He was staring into the figure sitting down in front of him, with a veil of thoughts between him and reality. So silent and brooding, he was as beautiful as a portrait, his flawless face matching perfectly with the nostalgia in his eyes.   
Diederich swallowed, forgetting to breathe until his lungs screamed in protest. When he exhaled and then inhaled again, it felt as if the only thing that reached him was Vincent’s scent.  
“What are you doing here?” he asked, too loudly for the College’s strict rules. He cleared his throat, then tried again “How did you get in, Phantomhive?”  
The young Earl did not answer, he just reached for him. He looked at him, stroking his hard face with unmistakable desire, and he bent over to reach his neck.  
“What are you doing??”  
Kissing his skin, Vincent murmured:  
“Just don’t talk about this, shall we, Diederich?”  
Vincent heard clearly the boy’s gasp, while, leaving a trace of light kisses, he reached for the lips that had monopolized his thoughts for the entire evening. He found them half opened, and without caring about them being dry, he lost himself in them. He was leading them with his own, into that kiss that was getting more and more intense, although completely unwitting.  
Diederich’s hands held his waist hard and pulled him forward, making him kneel onto his body. While the young Earl was leading the kiss, the faithful German was inviting him to lie down on him, chest to chest. Vincent threw his arms onto the other’s shoulders, his fingers entwined once again into the dark hair, pulling it so as to bend back his head and be able to taste the skin of his neck again.  
Diederich bit his lower lip and allowed him to do as he pleased. Phantomhive chuckled, and before Diederich knew it he had his mouth on him.   
That warm and wet sensation turned into a current running through his tensed body. He held him even more tightly, and he started to free him from the annoying clothing. He pushed him back to admire the smooth skin, still quite childish, stretching fair over the taut muscles, and tried to force himself to stay still. But the need to hold that inviting body was filling him up like an absolute and unquestionable imperative.  
Vincent laughed lightly, with a sweet and unusual expression on his face.  
“What’s up, Dee? You’re stopping right now?” he whispered, kissing his forehead “It’s too late for that…”  
The young German did not need to be told twice. He told his conscience to shut up and he pulled him down onto his bed. He blocked him under his body, and drowned into another rushed kiss.  
Both of them were craving each other impatiently and fearfully, listening to their heart rates matching one another’s, the expression of a desire which vastness they had yet to realize. Diederich’s hands were exploring Vincent’s body with the impudence of a lover and the curiosity of a teenager.  
“I like you so much, Dee…” the master murmured, letting his slave take off of him his check trousers. And it was the German boy’s turn to chuckle.  
“Shut up, Phantomhive” he grinned, his tongue making its way through the other’s flat chest, straight down to his sex, not yet awaken. Vincent’s fair skin, pale as the sheets and delicate as a rose, was ran through by a shiver when Diederich took him in his mouth. He delighted him with his tongue for instants way too short, way too intense: and when he released him, his full erection protested for the dissatisfaction.  
The Green Lion’s prefect smiled in response to the other’s lusty and slightly offended stare.  
“Don’t look at me like that, Phantomhive” he said, taking off his shirt “I don’t want to hear how much you like me. I want to see for myself how much you want me…”  
Vincent’s face turned red when Diederich, without any warning, pushed a finger into his hole, violating him with such impetuousness that it would have been impossible, absurd to reply.  
He let him do as he pleased, because he knew that Diederich would never break his pride. He couldn’t have done it, and he wouldn’t have. He could see that in those eyes, the eyes of a man still speckled by childness.  
His slave entered him with a second finger, drawing invisible circles inside his body, which was shaking with pleasure and fear. Moaning, Vincent caught Diederich’s wrist, stopping him with a meaningful look on his face. The other reassured him with a smile.  
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, resuming the preparation, this time paying more attention to the other’s reactions “Don’t be so stiff… just try to relax”  
He moved his fingers inside the Earl while playing with his erection, holding it in his hand, moving the palm onto the wet tip. He stroked it with decision, as he did with everything. However, the more he tried to look adult, the more his concentrate expression betrayed his fear, very similar to the other’s.  
Fear that came from not knowing what to do, fear of the pain, fear of that pleasure that tasted like sin. Fear of that desire, which went way beyond their most unconscious instincts.  
Vincent’s moans were mixing with his panting, as Diederich’s hands kept him prisoner of that sweet torture. He looked at him with gleaming eyes, but Diederich was following intently the movements of his hands. He liked to see him so caring and thoughtful: the German boy was trying hard to master something he had never tried, and the insecurity on that severe face made him beautiful as never before.  
“Dee…” he called, his voice shaking. He stroked the other’s cheek with his slim fingers and he felt him slightly trembling, for the impatience, maybe, and for the emotion. He turned his face to the side, breathing Diederich’s scent coming up from the pillow “Diederich…” he called again.  
The future soldier looked up and met Vincent’s eyes. He allowed himself to get lost into them: they were an impenetrable mirror, promising the best entertainments and delights, and showing feelings too deep and intimate for them to touch.  
Diederich bent over to kiss Vincent’s lips. When he pulled out his fingers, the other’s chest was shaken by a long sigh.  
“Phantomhive” he murmured, with his usual imperious tone slightly sweetened. They looked intently at each other, both of them asking and obtaining silent consents.  
Taking off his trousers with some difficulties, due to the tension, Diederich kneeled between the other’s legs, following the route of the events that had led them on that bed that night. He released his erection with a dissatisfacted sigh; then, touching it lightly, he looked back at Vincent.  
“Do you want to be on top?” he asked, serious. The Sapphire Owl’s prefect laughed a tense and unnatural laugh.  
“What kind of question is it, Dee?”  
The German boy looked up, annoyed by that cheekiness he would never get used to. It really pissed him off. Everything about Vincent made him mad, made him lose his mind… but since he was the only person able to destabilize him like that, he was attracted by him as by the sweetest honey. If he could not bend his pride, then he would have made him his along with that damn pride. Simple enough.  
“So now it’s you the one that doesn’t understand the language?” he asked, holding him steadily “And there was me trying to be kind…”  
He rolled over, shirtless and with his pants down, and let himself fall down with his back on the mattress, pulling Vincent onto him, his naked legs firmly pressed against his bare hips.  
Vincent got bright red in the face: his hands were on the German’s thighs, and he could feel all the power of the muscles under his fingers. He could feel the fiery erection rubbing impatiently between his buttcheeks.  
He swallowed hard and, clasping the other’s thigh with his fingers just to enjoy his German swearing, he held the partner’s sex with his free hand. He smiled slyly, and started to stroke him with his delicate fingertips. This took the Green Lion prefect by surprise, but he was Vincent Phantomhive, he was in command. Always.  
“Dee… tell me the truth” he asked, staring mesmerized at the abdominals contracting and relaxing along with the movements of his fingers “How much do you want me?” he played cruelly with the tip of his cock, which was starting to get wet.  
Diederich did not answer, he just growled, one hand clasping the sheets and the other digging into Vincent’s hip. He was powerless into his hands, the hands of a boy with an untrustworty mind… but it was true that it had been the young Earl that fell for him first. He felt slightly cheered up, although his satisfaction, his pain and his dignity depended completely on the other, who didn’t seem willing to end that teasing. He was smiling, beautiful and untouchable, his face burning and his hair messy.  
“I have to admit, Dee” Phantomhive said, stopping all of a sudden “You really are impossible to bend”  
The German boy sighed when he saw Vincent licking his upper lip. He felt his hand closing onto his erection once again, but this time as a strong hold on the base. It was leading him awkwardly and gently towards something they ignored the greatness of. But it was an adult thing, to think in a situation like that. They were boys, and could afford to be a little reckless.  
Balancing himself with a hand on Diederich’s chest, Vincent lowered himself onto him, slowly, so slowly that it brought the German on the boundary of ecstasy.  
“Phantom…hive…” he panted when finally Vincent’s body accepted the whole of his sex inside him, drowning it into that tight warmness.  
The young Earl looked at him, with an almost childish grimace. He let him in even more, he let him dig deeper and deeper into his body, without knowing that, in the future years, he would let him dig that way into his soul as well. Then he was suddenly blocked by a stabbing pain, and was left with his back arched and his muscles strained. He was shaking, but held back the tears. Noticing his gleaming eyes and stiff posture, Diederich stretched his hand towards him, to touch him and distract him from pain.  
“You’re too tense, Phantomhive” he said, smiling slightly when the other moaned and got suddenly red from embarrassment.  
“Just relax…” Diederich went on, stroking his cock with his fingers. The more he held tight, the more it throbbed, forcing Vincent to breathe through his mouth “Relax…” he murmured, pushing his hips upwards to penetrate him more “Relax…” he whispered when the other pushed back and allowed him to enter completely, their bodies perfectly adherent.  
He allowed them both some time to get used to that act, completely new and unexplored, but in the meantime he continued to stroke Vincent, who soon began to tremble and tightened the muscles surrounding his erection.  
Diederich complained for that unexpected move: there he was, trying to restrain himself from fucking him hardly and passionately as he wanted, just out of concern for Phantomhive’s wellbeing, and there was Vincent, who, despite the pain, could still find the strength to play with him. As always.  
“You always want to... play…” the German boy grinned, before allowing himself the first, violent push into his companion. Way too violent, to be honest. But in the groaning of the young Earl they both perceived the signals of a pleasure that was destined to increase.   
“How couldn’t I?” Phantomhive panted, his lustful eyes inviting him to dip more into his body. He stretched his arm, took Diederich’s hand and kissed it lustily, adoring and shameless “Look what I’ve won, by playing…”  
The Green Lion’s Prefect would have wanted to answer. He would have wanted to ask him if it was really just a game. But he didn’t. Instead he pulled his hand away and put it again on Vincent’s hips, guiding him into that dance they both danced to win.  
He frowned, thinking about that. But then he looked up at the young Earl’s face. It was too perfect, too dangerous… he pushed into him with new strength, as if they were having a fencing match instead of sex.  
“Dee…” Vincent smiled, and adapted immediately to the new rythm, his hands stroking the other’s chest.  
Diederich smiled back: he knew he would not give up that easily. But after all, he still had something up his sleeve… without slowing down, he went back to play with the inviting and moist erection in front of his eyes. It took no more than one touch to wipe away Vincent’s smile, transforming his pleased expression in a pleading and submissive one. He fell forwards onto him, making himself more vulnerable to the greedy cock getting in and out of him.  
The German boy clenched his hand with calculated cruelty in the same instant he pushed himself deeper. It brought Phantomhive to an orgasm that was massive and ephemeral as the loud cry he let out.  
He saw him fall onto his chest, shaking and exhausted. His warm breath was giving him goosebumps despite the summer heat. He felt Vincent clutch him, his fingers through his short black hair.  
This time it was Diederich’s victory. But it didn’t matter much. The winner’s prize was the same as the loser’s consolation.  
He held Vincent tight, slowing down his movements to the point that Vincent himself started to move to enjoy it and to make him enjoy it as well.  
The young Earl rested his forehead onto the quivering chest of his slave, kissing the skin that had mixed its scent with his own. He liked that scent. It smelled like them, it told everything about them. Seriously, there was the risk that he became dependent from it, he thought.   
Diederich’s breath got more and more heavy and rapid, and then it became a panting. He started to tremble, uncapable of controlling himself. Lying over him, Phantomhive was moaning lightly, clearly feeling how the German boy was consuming himself, moving faster and faster, longingly, eagerly.  
“Vin…cent…”  
Under his body he felt every single muscle strained, trying to reach that instant of paradise, while into his body he felt him melting away.  
Vincent had the other’s fingers deep into his hair, and his heartbeat resonating into his own chest.  
They stayed like that, embraced and exhausted, for the first few of the infinite minutes they would spend like that through the years that would come. Tired and pleased, maybe in love…  
Vincent was the first to break the silence. He crossed his arms and got back up to watch the other. Diederich’s eyes, weakened and peaceful, followed him.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked. The other blinked, his long eyelashes somehow flirty.  
“You called my name, before”  
The German boy coughed, embarrassed. The young Earl laughed prettily and maliciously.  
Diederich rolled away on the messed up bed and pulled up, sitting with the back to his partner. When he saw those beautiful muscles and the straight line of the backbone, Vincent was filled up with the desire to kiss that perfect body all night long.  
“I don’t remember doing anthing like that”  
The grumpy voice he was so used to brought him back to reality. Grinning, the Earl decided to play once again their usual game.  
“Oh, Dee!” he cried theatrically “First you make love to me, then you play so high and mighty? Really, I do not know how to deal with you Germans anymore…”  
“Don’t say it out loud, Phantomhive!” the dark haired boy panicked, his ears getting red.  
Vincent laughed sweetly, and threw his arms around the other’s shoulders. Diederich’s back was burning against his chest.  
“What?” he whispered, innocently “That Germans are impossible to deal with, or that we did it?”  
“Phantomhive, I’m warning you…”  
“But it’s the truth, Dee” he went on, kissing slowly his neck. God, he wanted him so badly. All that tension culminating in burning passion, Diederich pushing greedily into him and at the same time caressing with unbearable tenderness his hair… “And we’ll do it again and again, until we’ll have no strength left to get out of bed…”  
Vincent’s tempting lips were moving over Diederich’s skin as if they had done nothing else in his entire life. They were dancing onto his shoulders, enjoying the shivers that were running through the other’s body.  
“…until you’ll forget anything other than my name…”  
Diederich turned suddenly to face him. He got hold of his wrists and they both fell down, clinging in a kiss that melt away the boundaries of their hearts, dissolving everything into something they would never, ever give up.  
Their lips parted. Vincent caressed his face and smiled to him.  
“It’s an order.”


End file.
